Of Blood and Bridges
by jani11
Summary: When Jack drives out to Manhattan Bridge one night in the wake of his mother's death, he has no plans to return. Erin wakes with the feeling that something's not right.
1. Chapter 1

Jack wasn't thinking about the groceries in his backseat – or even the road.

Instead, his mind wandered back to another car ride he had taken with his father not too long ago, when they were discussing his plans to enlist in the military. Back when he was eager to finally start creating a Reagan legacy of his own.

Back when his mother was still alive.

Jack blinked hard, trying to shut out the scene replaying through his mind.

Sitting in English class, idly poking holes in his eraser while the teacher explained a passage he'd hardly skimmed over. The call down to the principal's. His father standing there, looking like the weight of the world had just crushed him.

"No. No, you're lying."

"I wish to God I was. I'm so sorry, Jack."

But Jack knew his father would never lie to him. And the anguish on his face – just like when Uncle Joe had died - that couldn't be faked. But it had to be. How could it be real?

He'd listened numbly as Danny explained the circumstances of Linda's death. How the helicopter had crashed into the power lines seven minutes after takeoff. How she'd been dead on arrival, along with everyone else on board. He'd heard the words, but he couldn't process them.

It was only until family dinner when he'd seen his mother's empty seat, and his father violently shove his chair over and disappear upstairs, and the desolation on everyone's faces, did the truth finally sink in.

His mother was dead.

Jack vaguely remembered the sound of shattering glass and crashing objects as he'd unleashed hell's fury upon his room, ripping posters from the walls and throwing or smashing anything he could get his hands on. He hadn't even felt the pain when he'd put his fist through the mirror.

Some days, he could fool himself into believing that he was fine. He'd laugh at some dumb thing his friend had recorded on Snapchat, return fire at his classmates with a paper ball, just go about his day as usual.

And then it'd hit him again like a ten-ton weight – always without warning.

He'd gotten into a brief argument with his great-grandfather for refusing to go to church the week after his mother's funeral.

"I know this is painful, but I trust in God's plan for us. We will pull through this together, just like we did when Joe died," Henry had said, trying to comfort him. "Pray to him for strength."

Jack had resisted the urge to scoff. If there was a God, why had he let his mother die? And Uncle Joe? And the Kents?

Behind Jack, someone blew the horn, then swerved to pass him. Jack leaned on his own horn and yelled obscenities out the open window, not giving a damn that passing pedestrians briefly looked up at him, or even if the man had a gun in the car.

So much the better if he did. Simply end it on the spot.

No such luck.

But no matter. The desired result would just come a little later.

* * *

"Danny."

"What is it, Dad?" Danny responded shortly as he downed the last of his milk and put the cup in the sink to deal with later. He already recognized the reprimanding tone in his father's voice.

"How long are you going to keep pretending that nothing's happening?" Frank asked bluntly.

"I'm not pretending anything," Danny snapped, starting to stalk out of the room.

" _Danny_ ," Frank repeated.

Despite himself, Danny paused, his back still to his father.

"I know you don't want to hear it, but you're going to listen."

Slowly, Danny turned back around to face his father, his very demeanor screaming impatience.

"Sean hardly says three words to anyone. Jack is barely passing his classes, getting into fights at school, _and_ he's gone diving into the bottle. Yet you shut yourself away like everything will somehow resolve itself."

"I spoke to Jack about it, alright?" Danny replied hotly. "I trashed all the alcohol in the house, the boy's mother isn't pressing charges, Jack won't be expelled, it's all good."

"It is not _'all good'_ ," Frank replied pointedly. "You're not the only one who lost something that day, Danny. You lost your wife, but your sons lost their mother. They need you to be there for them. You can't expect them to carry this burden all on their own."

"Well right now, _I_ can't even carry it!" Danny yelled, his thin hold on his patience finally snapping. "Get Jamie to play shrink with them. I'm not the one to lean on, alright?"

Frank sighed deeply as Danny stormed out of the kitchen.

* * *

"I don't feel like it."

"Come on, Sean, just one game. Please," Jack implored his brother.

"Fine, if it'll get you to leave me alone!" Sean snapped. He put his phone down and snatched up the remote.

"I win," Sean gloated, thirteen minutes later. "Seriously, dude, all you have to do is glide to make it into that tunnel!"

Jack smiled. "Good game, Sean."

The day passed by in its usual monotonous way. But this time, Jack wasn't dreading family dinner.

It had regained a mocking semblance of normality. Danny was silent and brooding as usual. Henry occasionally tried to brighten the mood with a bit of light conversation, and Erin and Jamie discussed political or law-related matters. But everyone was still painfully aware of the elephant in the room.

Or, more accurately, the elephant that _wasn't_ in the room.

"So how long will you be staying here, Aunt Erin?" Sean asked, as he forked some meatloaf.

"A day. Two max. Luckily the water main break wasn't very severe," Erin answered.

"Our home is starting to resemble a disaster shelter, Francis," Henry remarked lightly.

Frank gave a Mona Lisa smile from under his mustache, and Nicky chuckled. Jack forced a smile.

It was true. Frank and Henry already had a full house with Danny and his sons crashing there until the Reagans could close the secret sale on the new house, which they intended to present to Danny as a surprise.

Nicky risked a sly look at first Erin, then at Jack and Shawn.

"Who wants to help me do the dishes?" Erin asked. "Oh, come on, I did the cooking."

" _Some_ of the cooking," Henry corrected. "I made most of that meatloaf."

"I'll help you," Jack offered, standing up.

"Thank you, Jack," Erin said, with a pointed look at everyone else still seated.

"So how was that test?" Erin asked, as she stood side-by-side with her nephew at the sink. He scrubbed and she rinsed.

Jack gave an apathetic shrug. "Okay."

"You mean you failed." Erin sighed. "Jack, you're about to start college applications. If you keep messing up - "

"Jeez, what are you, my mother?" Jack snapped before he could think, slapping a plate into Erin's hands with such force that it nearly slipped out.

Jack instantly felt a pang at the mention of the word, and at the wounded look on Erin's face.

"Excuse me?" Erin retorted, with her customary sharpness.

"I'm sorry," Jack muttered sincerely.

"I understand," Erin replied, a bit milder.

They finished the last of the dishes. Jack dried off his hands, then looked up at Erin. Despite her tone, there was a touch of sympathy in her sharp brown eyes.

Jack was so tired of those pitying looks. So tired of people tiptoeing around him like he was an unstable bomb. So tired of being the poor motherless boy everyone at school blabbed about.

"Good luck on your case tomorrow," Jack told Erin, dropping his gaze. "Put that guy away, alright?"

Then, on impulse, he hugged her.

"Oh," Erin said softly, surprised.

Jack felt her stiffen in surprise before she relaxed and wrapped her arms around him in return, for the first time in his memory.

"Are you okay?" Erin asked concernedly when they pulled apart. "I can't remember the last time you hugged me."

 _I could say the same to you._

"Yeah," Jack lied. "I just...I guess I just miss her hugs, you know?" He used the most believable excuse he could think of.

Erin nodded, not entirely convinced that there wasn't something else. But Jack was already walking away.

* * *

 **Hey, guys! (Yes, I'm a mess, always writing multiple stories at once. I _promise_ I'm going to update the Avengers one after college applications. This one's meant to be very short.) I'm don't know if Frank lives with Henry or not. I'm just assuming that he lives alone and they eat Sunday dinner at Frank's house. Can someone please clear this up for me? And please feel free to point out any plot holes or other errors!**

 **Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you all who clarified that for me! I've gone back and fixed it.**

 **And a shoutout to the guest who gave me more insight into Jack's character. That was a big help. Good point that Jack isn't likely to violently lash out. And considering that he's a nerd who's only skipped school once, he's also unlikely to be failing. But that's the whole point. The grief has knocked him off center. He doesn't know how to cope, so it's manifesting in self-destructive ways. The irritability, out of character behavior, and substance abuse are some of the suicide warning signs.**

 **But to be more consistent with Jack's normal character, the violence isn't a pattern. He got into one fight at school, which was what Frank was referencing. (I know it was vague.) As for what it was about...you'll find out in the next chapter!**

 **Thank you all for the support! Keep those comments flowing! I love to hear your thoughts.**

* * *

Around midnight, Erin suddenly found herself awake.

She had to use the bathroom. Odd, since she usually slept through the night. Chalking it up to drinking too much water and sleeping in an unfamiliar bed, Erin grudgingly got up and headed off to the bathroom.

On the way back to her room, in the dim glow of the hallway nightlight, something caught her eye.

Jack's door was ajar.

Something about it gave Erin an inexplicable feeling of unease, which she immediately dismissed. For all she knew, Jack always slept with the door that way.

But then she remembered his strange demeanor earlier. He'd hugged her – something he never did.

Erin walked over to the door and knocked, quietly so as not to disturb the others.

"Jack?" she asked in a hushed tone.

Silence.

She shouldn't invade his privacy like this. But something just wasn't sitting right with her. She pushed open the door and crept in. As she approached the bed, she could just make out that it was vacant.

Erin flipped on the light switch, squinting as she was temporarily blinded by the brightness.

Not only was the bed empty, but the covers were neatly made. Erin swept her gaze across the room, and it landed on a piece of paper lying on the dresser. Right beside it was Jack's phone. With a sickening, sinking feeling, Erin walked over and picked up the paper. It was a note, written in Jack's large but neat handwriting.

 _To my family,_

 _I want you all to know that I love you, but I'm tired of going on like this. My life is meaningless. I know you're going to disagree, but don't waste your time fooling yourselves._

 _Face it, I'm not like any of you. I don't have anything to offer. I'm not going to grow up to be a brilliant lawyer like you, Aunt Erin, or the best detective in NYC, Dad. And I'm certainly not going to Harvard like you, Uncle Jamie. I've always just been that boring nerd with his head stuck in a book, good for nothing but scoring well on a test. Now I can't even do that._

 _I'm going nowhere and you know it. There's no way colleges would accept me with my crappy grades, and even if they did, there wouldn't be any point in going. And the military? Forget it. I'm too cowardly to even put a gun to my own head._

 _Don't worry, you won't be the ones to find me. I made sure of that. I'm sorry to have to leave you so soon after Mom, but you'll be alright. And one last thing. Dad, you need to stop blaming yourself about Mom. It wasn't your fault. You aren't the only one who puts their life on the line with your job. You need to come out of it and be there for Sean. He doesn't talk about it, but he's still hurting._

 _Jack_

Erin wasted no time. She grabbed Jack's phone and tore down the hall.

"DANNY!"

She crashed into her brother's room. To her dismay, it, too, was vacant.

Footsteps thundered down the hall, and within seconds, Henry and Frank came bursting into the room, closely followed by Sean.

"What happened?" One look at his daughter's face and Frank knew something was terribly wrong. Erin was as white as Danny's bedsheets, her eyes frantic.

"Where's Danny?" Erin demanded.

"He must be out working a late case. What – ?"

Erin shoved Jack's note and phone into her father's hands, her own shaking. "I just found this in Jack's room. He's going to kill himself. He left his phone. He didn't say where he went."

"What?" Henry and Sean cried in unison.

Frank skimmed the note, just enough to ascertain that Jack hadn't left any clues as to his whereabouts. He didn't waste time reading more than he needed to. "What time did you find this?"

He checked the phone. It was off. He turned it on and waited for it to power up.

"Just now." Erin took a breath to calm herself. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought she would be sick.

How long had the note been there? How were they ever going to find him? Jack could be dead already.

 _No._

Erin firmly smashed a lid on her racing thoughts. She had to keep her head. Panicking would only create disorder and waste more time.

Frank looked over at the clock on Danny's bedside table. It was not even ten minutes past midnight. "We went to bed at ten. He would have waited for everyone to fall asleep. Likely an hour."

He didn't have to say it. More than enough time had elapsed for Jack to carry out the deed.

"What do we do?" Sean wailed. "He could be dead already!"

"We don't know for certain, Sean." Henry put a comforting arm around his younger grandson. "But right now, we have to act like he's still alive so we can find him quickly."

"Everyone, think," Frank ordered. "Has Jack said anything about where he might have gone? Any joke, any small slip?" He spoke as he simultaneously began going through Jack's phone for clues.

Sean's eyes went wide. "He told me last week that he should just go jump off a bridge. I didn't think he meant it!" He looked distraught.

"There are thousands of bridges in New York!" Erin exclaimed.

It was a lead, but not a good one.

"We'll try the closest ones. It's unlikely he would have left Manhattan," Frank decided. He turned to Henry, handing him Jack's phone. "Pop, go through this and see if he left any clues as to where exactly he might have gone. Try to get ahold of his friends and ask if they know anything – some of them might still be awake. I'll call Danny and get units to the nearest bridges."

"I'll drive down to Manhattan Bridge," Erin said, suddenly remembering a crucial piece of information. The talk about bridges had jogged her memory. "Jack did a project on it in middle school. He said it was a popular suicide spot."

Frank nodded, and the Reagans sprang into action.

Erin raced downstairs, grabbed her phone and keys, and jumped into her car. Sure enough, Jack's blue secondhand Chrysler was gone from the driveway.

Erin was not a patient driver by nature, but tonight the only restraint she had was to prevent herself from crashing.

"Dammit, Jack, why did you have to go and do this?" she said aloud in frustration as she veered into a sharp turn.

She swallowed the painful lump in her throat.

 _Let him still be alive. Please._


	3. Chapter 3

Jack leaned forward slightly, endangering his already precarious perch on the wrong side of the railing. His heart hammered in protest even as his mind egged him on.

He had a vague sense of how long he'd been there, the cold metal pressing into his back as he stood upon the few inches of bridge between the railing and the open air, staring down into the blackened water. It'd been much too long.

 _Just do it. Let go._

But his fingers kept a treacherous grip on the rail.

He didn't know what was holding him back. Surely not the anticipation of pain, for the impact would kill him instantly. Surely not the thought of his family, for they'd be better off without him.

Now that he was moments from death, the memory of his late mother was what filled his mind. If there _was_ a life after death, would he see her? Perhaps it was the coward in him talking, because it almost seemed as if he could hearher voice inside his head.

 _Jack! Not like this. Please, don't do it. You don't want to do this._

"Yes, I do," he said forcefully, trying to convince himself.

He looked up at the sky, imagining a helicopter. Picturing the crash.

"Why did you have to leave us, Mom?" he whispered.

"Jack."

The voice was calm – soft, almost.

And very real.

Jack's head snapped up. Still gripping onto the rail, he twisted around.

* * *

"Jack."

Erin kept her voice steady and not too loud. If she startled him, he might lose his footing and topple over the edge.

He turned. Their eyes locked, Jack's widening.

"Aunt Erin?"

"Yes. Can I come over to you?" Erin took a cautious half-step closer.

Jack drew back – slightly. "No. No, just – leave! Go home." He turned away.

"You know I can't do that, Jack," Erin replied calmly.

For the love of everything good, where was Danny when she needed him? He had experience with this sort of thing; she'd never handled a suicidal person before.

What was the proper protocol? What should she say to him?

Erin combed through her mind, trying to come up with any scrap of information that might be helpful. What was it Danny had said that one time just before dinner when Sean asked him how he'd talked Martina Hernandez out of jumping off the roof?

 _You just got to keep them talking._

"Let's just talk. Okay?"

Jack didn't answer, but his eyes were fixated upon her. She could see the indecision on his face.

"I found your note," she said, talking another slow step towards him. "Can you tell me what's been bothering you?"

"Why would you care? You never have before," Jack snapped.

"What?" The accusation caught Erin completely off guard. "Why would you think that?"

"Before Mom died, when was the last time you asked me how my day went? Or even a 'What's up?' See, that's what I can't stand about people. They don't give a damn about you when everything's going smoothly, but when you're suddenly a sob story, everyone wants to feel noble and _do the right thing_." Jack's face twisted with disdain.

"Jack, if I ever made you feel that way, I'm sorry," Erin told him sincerely. "I had no idea. But I'm here now. Please, just talk to me. Have the kids at school been giving you a tough time?"

What Jack had just said seemed to imply as much.

"They only point out what's true. That I'm a wuss. Can't do anything right. Will always be a nobody." Jack's voice dripped self-loathing. His eyes dropped, then snapped up again.

"You want to know why I got into that fight? This kid came up to me and told me that he was sorry about my mom. Dereck overheard and said, 'Don't bother. He grew up with cops; he's used to people dying.' Then he said, loud enough so everyone in the hall could hear, 'I bet his mom was trying to be a hero and score some points with old man Reagan. Maybe hoped he'd give her a medal or something.' I was trying to ignore him, but when he said that part about Mom, I just lost it. I'm only sorry that I didn't break some teeth along with his nose."

Erin recognized the name Dereck. He was one of the boys who had picked on Jack in middle school. She'd heard from Danny that he'd transferred to Jack's high school a few months ago, but there was never any mention of renewed hostilities. Jack had been tight-lipped about the fight.

Erin felt indignant for him. "That was a horrible thing to say. I would've been furious, too. But why didn't you tell your father about this?"

"He was barely pulling through the day. I didn't want to give him more problems," Jack replied flatly.

He turned his head and looked down at the water, causing Erin's heart to clench.

"If he was that devastated when your mother died, imagine what it'd do to him if he lost you too. I don't think he'd survive that."

Erin was standing at the rail now. She wanted so badly to just grab him, but she couldn't risk it. Where he was standing, if he wrenched away, he'd be knocked off balance and go plummeting to his death.

"He's got Sean. He'll turn out better than I ever could – someone Dad can be proud of."

The whine of distant but approaching sirens filled the air. Soon the police would be at the scene. Jack evidently heard it too, for he stared down at the water again, turning his body slightly towards it.

Then he looked back at Erin. "Do you think I'll see her? Mom?" he asked, his voice breaking. His eyes were haunted with a look Erin was all too familiar with.

It was like the one she'd seen in the mirror and in her brothers' faces when Mary Reagan had passed away.

But this damage was cruller.

This was the shattered look of a young boy who'd lost his mother much too soon.

Erin gripped his hands through the railing. "I know what it's like to lose your mom. I know the pain. I won't lie; it's something you never fully get over. But you can survive it. We'll help you."

Jack hung his head, his face contorting. "She wasn't supposed to be there!" he yelled, releasing the rail with one hand and pounding it hard enough to bruise. "And it was all for nothing."

Erin fought to keep her voice from breaking. "I wish I had the answers. But I only know this. Linda loved you so much, Jack – you and Sean. She would never want to meet like this. She'd want you to live, to experience all the things she never got to. There's still strength in you, otherwise you'd have jumped by now."

Tears were running down Jack's cheeks. Erin felt his fingers tightening on the rail.

The sirens were much louder now. They were here.

"Please don't do this."

Jack stared at her.

"Don't make me bury my nephew." Erin held his gaze, a desperate plea.

A second went by. Two seconds.

Then Jack clambered over the railing and landed safely on the other side.

Erin seized him in a fierce hug, and he clung to her like a small child as the patrol cars pulled up and its occupants climbed out.

Only then did Erin let her tears fall.

* * *

 **The end! Or not...**

 **You decide. Do you want another chapter? Cast your votes!**

 _ **To all the readers who are struggling with suicidal thoughts, if you ever need a safe space, my PMs are open. If you're in crisis, please call the hotline at 1-800-273-8255.**_


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